


Mind the Bump

by stories_in_my_head



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonverse AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-19 00:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stories_in_my_head/pseuds/stories_in_my_head
Summary: The War has ended.  The Resistance and the First Order are now under the command of the new Emperor.  He ascended into power with his new wife to bring order throughout the galaxy.  Their subjects, content in midst of peace and prosperity, focused their attentions to more mundane, domestic matters: the pitter-patter of imperial feet.





	Mind the Bump

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AttackoftheDarkCurses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackoftheDarkCurses/gifts).



> Hello! Here's my contribution to the House Dadam Fic Exchange 2018. 
> 
> I chose a prompt from the lovely AttackoftheDarkCurses: Canonverse Ben being told he’s going to be a dad. Leia’s there to hear the news (it’s a big surprise to both Rey and Ben). Nobody has time to process before Leia falls into “excited grandma mode.”
> 
> Please indulge me as I set up the scene before we get to the goods.

“Those bloodsucking nobodies!” General Armitage Hux shaped his thin lips in a distasteful curl. Obscenities he certainly didn't learn from the Academy’s curriculum spewed from his mouth as he perused his encrypted datapad. The direct, one-line question seemed innocuous, nestled between the myriad and varied communiques his office received in the course of the preparations and on the appointed day itself.

 

“Something wrong, General Hux?”  The smoky, soft, and imperious voice identifiable to everyone as belonging to Leia Organa throttled Hux’s string of expletives.

 

The notoriously grave and sober General of the former First Order turned over and shifted unused facial muscles, offering his old adversary a tight, conciliatory smile.  “Beg pardon if I… wounded your sensitivities, Your Imperial Majesty.”

 

Leia waved his non-apology with a bejewelled hand and an indelicate snort. “I married a smuggler, General. I could teach you a word or two, should you wish to expand your repertoire.”  

 

Hux loped closer to where his former enemy sat, his wiry hand clutching the datapad.  “I was taken aback by some...one of the questions we received.”  He observed the woman whose face was frequently shown in flat screens and old holovids.  Her visage unfailingly accompanied by officious, incendiary language. _Self-styled_ _General of the paramilitary organization called the Resistance...Actively conspired and/or participated in terrorist activities...Public enemy number one of the First Order._

 

He loathed to admit, in hindsight, the First Order completely underestimated the formidable willpower and reputation of this former rebel leader.  The Order preferred a boombastic show of its finest, biggest, most powerful weaponry.  While it was effective in turning minds and allegiances, such tactics burned through the Order’s coffers.  Hux suggested to the Supreme Leader in investing in the Order’s propaganda machine to offset the high cost of waging what was proving to be a war of attrition.  The Supreme Leader ignored his suggestions.  Now free to express his thoughts, Hux found it perplexing the Supreme Leader thought victory could be secured by expensive weaponry and by eliminating an old man living on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean.  Hux opened his mouth to press his suit; a quick constriction on his throat was enough and he deferred to the Supreme Leader’s better judgment.  Hux was, after all, a survivor.

 

While the Order was hunting down the Resistance in a manner it thought was the equivalent of shooting burra fish in a barrel, this petite woman operated low in the ground.  Hux learned, from his handful of interactions with the members of the Resistance, how she tirelessly parlayed her well earned political experience and reputation to yank the Resistance back from the ashes after their loss on Crait.  Cashing in on favors, reaffirming old connections while attempting to forge new alliances.  It didn’t hurt this canny woman was heavily connected where it mattered most.  Her name proclaimed her royalty; her relationships secured her place in the galaxy. True, her bloodline caused her eventual downfall, but it is the same bloodline which returned her to the heart of power.  She was, presently, appointed co-regent of the Empire while the Emperor and Empress were _otherwise engaged_.

 

If Leia Organa successfully operated a ragtag group of people to challenge the might and power of the Order, Hux could only imagine what she could do now she has the empire at her absolute, temporary disposal. With his approval as co-Regent, of course.

 

The emperor’s mother raised a brow in curiosity.  “Whatever it is, General, I am sure our records will provide us with an appropriate response.”  Leia isn’t wrong there.  Every minutiae of the occasion, from their dresses, food, flowers, music, even the damn multi-tier cake the happy couple sliced at the reception, were carefully curated and catalogued.  When his office was swamped with the deluge of enquiries, members of the newly formed Imperial Army scrambled to volunteer and performed this thankless work. 

 

“Apparently, we haven't thought of everything.” Hux tapped his screen and zoomed in before presenting his datapad.

 

Leia murmured her thanks, already reading the contents of the screen. “Quite understandable the level of interest it has - _what a load of smelly, watery pile of bantha shit is this_?”

 

“My sentiments exactly, Your Imperial Highness, “he smirked.  His humor was genuine this round, as he heard the Princess turned Senator turned General turned Regent swore like a man who found the whore he hired for the night has the teeth and disposition of a hungry sarlacc.   _Guess I needed to expand my vocabulary after all._

 

“We haven't even taken down the last of the bunting and these kriffing hounds are asking if the Empress is already _pregnant_?”  

 

One didn’t need force sensitive abilities to detect the thunderclap of anger rising out of Her Imperial Majesty.  He reached out to retrieve the datapad before it could be destroyed; her family was notorious for throwing or destroying valuable objects when highly annoyed. “I will cancel their press credentials right away, Your -”

 

His words were cut short when Leia placed her hand over his forearm.  “It’s a step in the wrong direction, General Hux.  We need to appear open and conciliatory, now more than ever.”

The tall, spare younger man nodded. Hux was wearing several layers of clothing; this ship’s machinery necessitated the indoor be set to cooler temperatures.  Nonetheless, he felt the warmth of her hand through the barriers of fabric.  Physical touch which wasn’t tantamount to a slap, a beat, or a choke, was a foreign concept; he rarely, if at all, was at the receiving end of one considered akin to affection.  He found it … not unpleasant.  “I will send out our standard denials, then.”

 

“No.”  Leia squeezed her hand gently. “Just.. Just thank them and advise an announcement will be forthcoming the moment we have confirmation,” she finished, patting his arm.

 

“As you wish, Your Imperial Highness. Let's hope our statement does the trick and throw their nosy business off.”

 

“I'm pinning all my hope _those two_ make the most of that damn honeymoon.”

 

***

The sun has risen hours ago, the blazing orb slowly ascending, edging closer to the zenith. Its rays warmed the modest-sized room by degrees, reluctant to shine its light and intrude upon the room’s occupants.

 

An imposing, sturdy bed was posited in the middle of the room.  Within its soft confines the new empress, Rey, slept, sated, peaceful and serene. Shiny, chestnut hair was unbound and tumbled in waves of glory over the pristine, downy pillow.  Her slender figure was balled up, spine curving; her limber legs were wound together knees up. She slumbered like a creature guarding, as if by instinct, the soft and vulnerable parts of her body.

 

Behind her, her emperor kept constant vigil, his dark eyelashes fanning over the bruised circles under his eyes, his ruby lips raining kisses along one golden, exposed shoulder.  He waited, as he waited a lifetime ago, for this woman to open her eyes and awaken.  Unlike the masked and enrobed former commander of the First Order who knelt in anticipation while his captive dressed in desert rags laid in stupor, the newly married couple were devoid of any clothing.  A silken sheet covered their naked bodies, a concession to the cool of the dawn hours rather than a desire for modesty. 

 

Rey slowly roused herself, shaking internally the befuddlement of sleep.  Old habits kicked in, perfected over the decades subsisting alone in the barren wasteland.  She kept still, her mind free to wander, using a power she as a child didn’t know she possessed, let alone had no name to attach it to.  Her active inner senses spun a web throughout her immediate vicinity, attuned to any danger disturbing her silken strands. 

 

She felt the warmth of the sun diffused by the glass of the window, its heat permeating the cobblestone floor and the edges of the bed, chasing away the coolness of the early morning dew.  Rey relished the gentle heat warming her face and her limbs, grateful she was not waking to the harsh and incinerating fever of the Jakku sun. 

 

In the end, she sensed no threat or hint of danger where it was filled with the calm, enervating warmth of the morning.  Turning her attention to the rest of the area, Rey felt another kind of heat.  She knew from its proximity she wasn’t alone in the bed.  It was a form; he was massive in shape, solid and clear.  Years of mental discipline and physical training honed him as the ultimate weapon. His power, equal only to hers, remained raw and untamed. Family tried to rein it in; a hostile mind attempted to harness it for evil.  He emerged battered and broken after years of conflict, his mind and hand, and the galaxy, finally his own to command. 

 

This man wielded power over every living being in the galaxy, hers included: able to snuff her life force with a thought or wrap his elegant fingers around her throat, squeezing air from her lungs.  Instead of fear or panic, a sweet, heated languor invaded her body as a pair of soft plush lips and blunted teeth worried her bare shoulder.  She felt the touch of naked skin, his eagerness to tease, playful as a tooka cat toying with its chosen prey, nipping down to the scented valley where her shoulder and neck meet.  She was too late to control a small gasp of pleasure escaping from her lips, shattering her inanimate disguise.

 

Knowing her game was up, Rey unfurled her body, snuggling deeper into the smooth expanse of his chest.  She moaned, louder and sharper, when a hollow, curious ache settled low in her belly as she stretched her legs.

 

Ben stopped his teasing ministrations when he heard her distress.   _Sweetheart! Are you all right?_ He asked through their bond.

 

She turned over, her back now flat on the bed.  She opened her eyes carefully and saw the light of the mid-morning sun caress the pale, handsome face of her husband.  His eyes bore down upon her, dark, soft, yearning, and worried.  She nodded before tugging at their bond.  _Yes, Ben, I am well._  Doubt settled on his mind, unconvinced despite her assurances.Heat suffused her wholesome cheeks, unable even in the exclusivity of their bond to explain how muscles she didn’t know existed till last night made themselves known this morning.  She opened her mind, allowing Ben to dip into the jumble of memories, emotions and sensations, hoping it was enough for him to figure it out.  Dark brows furrowed before the light of understanding hit him. A pair of berry-stained streaks bloomed in his own cheeks.  Teeth bit absentmindedly over plump lips while his adam's apple bobbed up, a tell-tale sign of his own bashfulness.

 

Ben murmured a quick, embarrassed apology through their connection. She quickly rifled through his mind, sensing his regret at being the cause of her discomfort.  There was another emotion, a sliver of masculine pride of being her first.  _I'm sure you’re so very sorry,_ Rey snorted.

 

 _Tell me how I can make it up you, my empress._ He was light years away from when she first met him in a forest clearing, tall and menacing.  Ben’s skin retained its paleness, the hue of smoothed marble, not the pallor of death.  His eyes held a distinct twinkle but a sadness shadowed those Stygian, expressive globes.    

 

Rey took it as her personal mission to chase the remnants of gloom around her husband. “Where am I?”  She asked playfully, her voice sultry and drowsy from sleep.   

 

“You’re - “ Ben started to reply but the rest of his words drifted away.  He bent over, eyes wandering the room, searching for something.  He uttered a soft _Ah_ when he spied articles of their clothing clumped in a pile at the foot of their bed.  He scooted over and grabbed one of Rey's intimate garments. He covered his nose and mouth with one lacy, scented cup. “You're my guest,” he intoned, his serious words contrasting with his messy appearance and wiggling brows.

 

“Where are the others?”

 

“You mean the murderers and thieves you call friends?” Ben asked through his faux mask. He inhaled deeply, drawing in her intoxicating scent.  Rey nodded, covering half of her face with their shared sheet, hiding her mirth threatening to spill.

 

_Well, last time I saw them, Uncle Lando was slow dancing with Mama, and Rose, uhm, roped everyone to dance something called a Conga._

 

Rey laughed softly. “At least everyone had a real good time.”

 

“Hush, stick to the script,” Ben chastised her, his mouth still covered by the perfumed lingerie. “You'll be relieved to know I have no idea.  You still want to kill me?”

 

“That happens when you're being hunted by a monster in a mask.”

 

He removed the scented garment away from his face, planting a quick, wet kiss on each of her flushed cheeks. “A creature, my empress, you called me a creature in a mask.”

 

“Didn't I call you a monster?”  His wife's brows furrowed, her gamine, animated face scrunched up in confusion.

 

Ben felt his heart thump as he gazed his wife in adoration.  “Yes, sweetheart. Aside from ‘creature in a mask,’ you've accused me as being a ‘murderous snake,’ then a ‘monster’.”

 

Rey blushed, remembering the words she spat in anger in the early days of their relationship.  “I'm not going to apologize.”

 

“Believe me, those were not the worst,” Ben noted, slumping back to the bed with a heavy sigh. “You were the only one who’s brave enough to say those things on my face.”

 

Rey turned over, playing with a stray lock of hair that fell over Ben's face, gazing into his soulful eyes while delving into his thoughts. Her curiosity bouncing through his mind like stones skipping in still waters, sensing both of them suffering starvation in one form or the other.  

 

“Ben, please tell me you understand they didn't know what Snoke did to you as a child?”

 

He nodded slowly, remembering his parent’s bewildered faces when the best doctors their money afforded couldn't find the cause of his mood swings, or his constant nightmares.  How resentful he was when he felt their relief once he was shipped off into his Uncle’s care.

 

“They tried their best, Ben, to spare you further harm -”

 

“How about sparing me a little honesty?”

 

“Will you be honest with me, Ben?”

 

“Always, my empress.”

 

Rey touched the darkened crescents underneath his eyes.  “Have you been resting… Sleeping?“

 

Ben shook his head.

 

“When was the last time you slept?”

 

“Days ago.”

 

She immediately felt the acrid aftertaste of his barefaced lie.  “You expect me to fall for that?”

 

Ben swallowed audibly, breathing through his nose and exhaling puffs of air out of his mouth.  “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep for weeks.”  

 

Rey started scrambling off the bed.  “Are we in danger? Leia -”

 

“No, sweetheart. No danger. As far as I know,” Ben confirmed, wishing the communicator he was pressed to bring with him by Hux wouldn’t light up for the next couple of days.

 

“Then why are you not sleeping Ben?” Rey demanded.

 

He raised his arm over his face, covering his eyes, an ache forming in his chest.  “What if I close my eyes and wake up...” 

 

 _What if I wake up and all of this is all but a dream?_ Ben continued through their bond.

 

“It's not,” Rey reassured her husband succinctly.

 

“Or another illusion, a trick by Snoke, to keep me in line,” he insisted. “And I open my eyes and I am in my old room, cold and alone. And you so far away, still in Jakku, starving or worse.”

 

She gently removed his arm, twining her fingers with his own.  “Then you wake up, and do what needs to be done.”

 

Her husband's dark, sad eyes wandered throughout the room before settling on her worried face. He committed this intimate setting, every rosy detail, his wife's beautiful, radiant face, the smoothness of her skin, even the motes of dust floating around the room, into his memory. Holding on to this bubble of happiness should his fears proved to be true.  He placed his weary head on the crook of her neck, seeking solace.

 

“Force help me, the man who wakes me from this dream will taste the edge of my sabre,” Ben confessed darkly, clinging to her by wrapping a greedy arm over her waist.

 

Rey heard no bedtime stories or lullabies growing up; the silence of the desert night or the violent whiplash of an unforgiving storm were her companions.  She tried humming an aimless tune, the simple notes melodious and soothing, the sound calming and soft, meant to be heard by his ears alone.  In a few minutes, she felt Ben’s anxious breaths slow into a restful huff.  Rey pressed on, letting her voice calm her husband to sleep until exhaustion and sleepiness claimed her.

 

***

They spent the rest of their honeymoon in bed.  For the first couple of days, they made love, haltingly, tenderly. Time held no meaning within, the rising and setting of the sun observed in passing, their attentions focused on the other’s bodies, seeking reassurances or approval through words or, if their mouths were busy elsewhere, through their bond.

 

Rey found her Ben to be so easy to please. She wielded the gift of the Force but luxuriated in the shared ability of every humanoid to make their partners groan and beg for mercy.  With the stroke of her hand or a flick of her tongue, the most powerful man in the galaxy was reduced to a mindless, insensible beast. 

 

Ben's plush, generous mouth groaned lascivious and filthy words, praising her nimble fingers or the wet, warm cavern of her mouth. Rey teased him, in between flicks and licks, if he learned those words at his uncle's Academy. It was his turn to send his swirling memories through the bond, snippets of a wartime Ben, no, _Kylo Ren_ , flushed and fumbling, watching a grainy holovid.  The video was in monochrome but it was unmistakable what it depicted: a slender, dark-haired woman on her knees, her lips stretched, wrapped around the cock of an unknown man. The same unknown man moaned words off-camera; they were the same words Ben uttered moments ago.  Rey watched in her mind’s eye as the memory zoomed out, showing a man she knew as Kylo with one trembling hand precariously holding the small device and his other hand pumping furiously along the length of his own cock. She didn't need to ask whether it was his favorite holo; Rey bore a striking resemblance to the woman whose cock-filled lips were filmed, front and center.  Rey mimicked the woman’s movements on the holovid and her husband came in her mouth in seconds, his heavy-lidded eyes centered on her pink lips framed with the pearly creaminess of his seed.

 

Ben explored his wife’s body like she was made of glass, delicate and easily broken. He was mindful how sore she was and touched her gently, tentatively.  His aim was to give her unimaginable pleasure and took little in return, a pauper hoarding the crumbs falling from the veritable cornucopia laid out at the table. It took days of much convincing and encouragement from Rey before Ben slaked his true hunger.  And feasted he did.  It was a miracle she retained the ability to walk as her limbs were constantly spread out, the rest of her writhing from Ben's singular attentions.  It would be several days before Rey's right foot was within inches of the left twin. 

 

In between bouts of heady, mind-blowing fucking, Ben showered his wife with gifts, little surprises hidden in satin pouches.  He would take one bag and spill its contents in her waiting hands.  He wound around her neck a necklace of gold, its simple chain hung two gems, one blue and the other red, each sparkling with otherworldly fire.  Another day, he pinned precious stones all over her hair, the dark brown of her tresses with its blonde highlights a perfect canvas to perch the colorful jewels. 

 

Ben marvelled how her natural beauty enhanced the prettiness of the baubles, not the other way around.  His dark, lust blown eyes lit with dark delight at how his gifts would move and tremble with each hard, driving stroke of his cock into her wet cunt.  His weight pinning her flat on the bed, the impact of his thrusts jostling the trinkets on her trembling body.  The dark circles under his eyes slowly disappeared, while tender bruises sprouted on parts of her body where Ben sucked or grasped possessively.  

 

When Rey complained her shoulder length hair was getting tangled, his nimble fingers braided her hair, just as he learnt how from his mother as a young tow-headed boy. He secured the end with a scarlet ribbon, flicking the tail on one lightly tanned shoulder, using a tiny mirror to show his wife his neat, precise handiwork. Later that night, he wound the braid with his fists as he pummelled her from behind, their collective moans joining the sharp, relentless noises of their joined bodies.

 

Unseen, discreet hands left plates of food and jugs of drink outside their door.  Ben would saunter, bare and unashamed, across the room to bring the tempting morsels inside. Her husband insisted on feeding her.  He chose the tastiest bits on the platter and fed them to her by hand.  When Rey expressed curiosity as to the contents of a meiloorun fruit, Ben peeled the yellow-orange coloured fruit by himself, with hands used to wielding weapons than handling fruit.  He wasn't born to inherit an empire, but he was raised around servants or droids ready to do his bidding, including the peeling of any fruit he desired to consume.  His infamous skill with his lightsabre didn't translate well with a paring knife.  Ben took double the time working on the small elongated fruit; half of its flesh was sliced off together with the rind.  Her years of deprivation made Rey loathe the wastage of food, but she didn't have the heart to take over peeling the blasted thing.  Ben presented the clumsily peeled item for her to eat, as proud as he was when he gifted her with expensive jewels days ago.

 

On their last night, Rey flew into his arms, bursting into tears.

 

“Would you think bad of me -” Rey sobbed, hiccupping in between words - “if I wished we wouldn’t have to leave?”

 

Ben wrapped his arms all around her, letting her tears wash over his chest.  “Would you think bad of me if I feel the same way?” 

 

Rey shook her head, her sobbing subsided to a few sniffles.  

 

Ben held her in his arms, fingers running through her hair, whispering promises to take her back here when their duties prove to be too much to bear.    


End file.
